


Midwest Dusk

by thesabotagedandovershadowed



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Domestic, Fluff, Growing Old Together, M/M, is it gen?, is it long since established relationship?, who can tell with these two
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-30
Updated: 2020-06-30
Packaged: 2021-03-03 21:07:41
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,008
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24992038
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thesabotagedandovershadowed/pseuds/thesabotagedandovershadowed
Summary: Sam and Dean make an impromptu stop.
Relationships: Dean Winchester/Sam Winchester
Comments: 5
Kudos: 40





	Midwest Dusk

**Author's Note:**

  * For [swinchester83](https://archiveofourown.org/users/swinchester83/gifts).



> this was written as a birthday gift for [sammehsayum](https://sammehsayum.tumblr.com/), my beta reader and fellow hannibal bitch, who requested something tender and not angsty :) happy birthday!

“The sky looks nice tonight.” 

That was all it took. Sam waited for Dean to make his usual comeback (“ _ Dude, could you  _ be _ any more gay?” _ came to mind), but his older brother only peered over the steering wheel at the early evening sky. 

It was twilight, and the sky was blossoming in soft pinks and oranges over the midwest. They’d been driving with the windows down, taking in the fresh summer air after a brief hunt. Sam flexed his bloody knuckles. It was nothing they couldn’t handle, but it had taken them far out into one of the many removed farms around the area. They’d accepted the case because it was near their home, but they were still a good drive away from the bunker.

“Yeah, it does,” Dean murmured, distracted. Sam glanced at his brother. He knew when an idea had sprouted in his mind, and he also knew there was no stopping it once it latched on, so he waited patiently to see what would happen next.

He didn’t need to wait long. Dean slowed, the rumble of the impala growing quieter with it, and turned into an empty field, facing the sunset. 

Sam stared blankly as Dean removed the keys.

“Uhhh, what are we doing?” 

Dean threw his signature mischievous grin towards him as he popped open the door. 

“Picnic, Sammy.”

“D-Dean we don’t...we don’t have any food...” he mumbled, still confused.

“Beer counts!” Dean called, already approaching the trunk. 

Sam rolled his eyes and stepped out. There was no denying it was a beautiful evening. He winced as he stretched, his bones popping in all the right places. God, they were getting old. It was almost eerily quiet out here, removed from civilization. He could hear evening birds chirping, though he couldn’t see any. There were no trees, only fields full of tall, dry grass. He figured that was where they were hiding. Baby’s engine tinked against her metallic body, and Sam smiled. Dean used to tell him she made that sound because she was also stretching after a long ride. 

Sam wandered over to his brother.

“What do you got?”

Dean glanced up through squinted brows. “Beer,” he answered, dropping the hefty cooler into his arms, “and uhh, while we’re stopped-” he held up a first aid kit with a shrug.

“Dean-”

“It won’t kill you, come on.”

Sam followed him to the front of the car, and dropped the cooler in the grass with a thud.

“Hey, easy on the beer,” Dean reprimanded jokingly, sitting on the hood. 

Sam snorted and joined him, leaning against the windshield comfortably. He could feel the hood hot under his jeans, but it wasn’t hot enough to hurt, just enough to remind him of his childhood. He wondered how many times he’d sat on the hood of the same car as a child, using the last of the fleeting light to finish his homework at a rest stop somewhere. 

Dean motioned for his hand. Sam obliged, scooting close enough to rest his hand on Dean’s thigh. 

“You know you really don’t need to.”

Dean shushed him. 

“Relax, we’ve got time.”

Sam looked up at his brother. He liked to watch his brother whenever he was distracted. Sam’s thumb rubbed absentmindedly across Dean’s thigh as he tore open a pack of antiseptic wipes. He dabbed carefully at the nearly dried blood, and Sam watched his intense gaze with fondness, watched as he examined the blood as if it were a serious injury, and not the result of a brief scuffle. Though to his big brother, maybe all his injuries were serious, he thought with a smile. 

Dean had crow’s feet now, when he squinted. Sam thought it must’ve been the most beautiful thing he’d ever seen. He’d changed over the years, but he was still _Dean._ The same big brother who had kissed his scraped knee and carefully applied a bandage to it was now decades later, holding his hand as though it might break, softly fixing hands that had endured so much worse than simple bruised knuckles. Against all the odds in the goddamn world, they’d grown old. More importantly, they’d somehow managed to do it together.

“What’s got you all smiley?” Dean murmured, still distracted as he wiped the blood away softly. 

“Did you ever think we’d make it this far?” 

“Never doubted for a second.”

Sam laughed sweetly.  _ Liar,  _ he thought fondly.

He laid his head back against Dean’s Baby. A breeze moved through the field and ruffled his hair. Sam breathed in deeply, inhaling the warm summer air as if he might never feel it again. It was dusk now, and the pink skies had already faded into orange. Dean squinted in the evening light, wrapped his hand in a clean bandage. 

“I’m hungry. We should stop and get something, maybe even come back here.”

“We have food at home. I’m making spaghetti, remember?” 

“God, I forgot,” Sam laughed. He was looking forward to it. Something about the way Dean made it always turned out better.

“Done.”

Dean interlocked his fingers with Sam’s, letting it fall to rest on his thigh once more. He stared off into the last of the light, before leaning back against the impala. His hand was warm, gentle against his own.

“Eh, 7 out of 10 service,” Sam teased. “You used to kiss it better.”

A smile broke out on Dean’s face against his best efforts. Without looking away from the sunset, he brought Sam’s hand to his lips and kissed it sincerely, all soft lips and scratchy beard against the back of his hand, before dropping their hands back down again.

Sam leaned over the side of the car and pulled out two beers, one for each of them. Held it between his knees as he popped off the cap. Dean took it with his other hand, and tapped it against Sam’s own before taking a deep sip. 

“Yeah,” Sam agreed, Dean’s shoulder warm against his own, “we’ve got all the time in the world.”


End file.
